I was an accident (or to be politically correct, unexpected gift 😉 ), the product of a diminishing relationship. I can’t remember how long I have known this but it never has bothered me. My mother got the news (of my impending arrival) when she was 34 and coming out of a committed relationship. She didn’t think she would get another opportunity in time to have another child, considering that back then (1975) it was no so common to have a child after her age. So she chose to keep rather than abort me as “my father” wanted.
This is not the story of a mother and daughter who are best friends. In fact some days we have trouble getting along. Our strained moments used to bother me but now I am grateful for what we do have because well it really could be worse. Maybe we are similar in a few ways (shudder) though I’d like to believe I am a better version of her. Not because I think so highly of myself but because I am the more recent model. I am sure my mother would argue that point.
I have come to learn that we get along swimmingly in short bursts. So this past Sunday, Mother’s Day, I headed over to my mother’s house to make us breakfast. I arrived right when she woke up and got to work preparing the planned breakfast that included scrambled eggs, croissants with marmalade, fresh squeezed grapefruit juice and coffee. We sat out on her patio and enjoyed the food and weather.
We caught up on each others inconsequential current events and ended up learning we both have never been on a hot air balloon ride but both want to do this. I told her we needed to get this done this year rather saying we would do it later. It was a lovely morning that included no disagreements. So in short it was a success in my book.